Sacrifice Without Blushing
by drufan
Summary: As days off go, this isn't really a good one for John. But for Sam...


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A/N: Found this in my folder. Thought I'd post this piece of indulgence.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Sacrifice Without Blushing

"I'll only be a minute, just wait there!"

Sam heard him before she saw him. He sounded amused and exasperated. But more amused than anything because he was laughing when he yelled to whoever was supposed to wait. She gave herself three guesses as to who waited, but the first two did not count.

"We can walk together; I just have to hand in my report," he explained further, with great exaggerated patience to his less than patient cohort.

A disgruntled answer rumbled from out of sight just before a sweat pants-clad John Sheppard knocked on her doorframe. And the rumble confirmed she would have been right in her guess.

Sam looked up into the pleased eyes of her second in command. "Now would this be P1A-N09 or would this be M27-595?" She still liked the sound of that: _her _second in command. Then she decided to clarify, just for the sake of clarification. "Zombie world or the planet that makes Vegas seem Puritan?"

The amusement spread from his wrinkled brow to his mouth in the form of a smirking grin. He raised both eyebrows along with his hands conspiratorially, just in case she decided to make an issue of it. "The latter, and Ronon really wants to head back-- all in the name of mutual cooperation, of course."

"They have good food!" Ronon bellowed from somewhere on the lower level.

His amusement transferred to her and she snorted, "His hearing is--"

"--really good!" Ronon finished, sounding a little closer.

"What he said," Sheppard agreed by hitching his thumb over his shoulder. An even more mischievous grin enhanced his already busy laugh lines. "The other one, I'm still trying to figure out how to write up without losing my breakfast, lunch, _and _dinner."

"Aah…Well then, enjoying your day off?" She asked, appreciating this impromptu and relaxed interaction between them. She very rarely saw this side of John Sheppard.

He slowed his turn, a pause before retracing his steps over the bridge to the Control Room, and stood in shallow, exaggerated contemplation.

Sam smiled in her own contemplation. She remembered those days: hanging out with her team during down time and just getting away from the go, go, go of the job. Those days weren't that long ago, really. As an added bonus, on Earth, she could go to her own place to get away from the mountain, have a beer at one of the local bars, and unwind away from the SGC. Here, everyone lived in each other's pockets and work was home. A day off was in name only, unless you received permission to go to Earth.

"Yeah." He glibly answered, making her accept his sincerity completely.

She rose from her desk and walked with him part of the way across the bridge. The Gate started lighting up and they stopped to watch. "Seems Lt. Rosario is right on time." Her observation was light in tone, a last bit of small talk before he went about his business.

He gripped the railing and leaned just a little. "He's been scouting for a home for refugees, right?"

She gave Sheppard a sideways glance as they stood side-by-side on the overpass. "Yes, and I'm pretty sure you already knew that."

He smiled in answer, never looking at her. "Well, I'd better get out while the getting's good…"

She smiled right back ending the small talk.

As soon as the returning team broke the surface of the puddle and stepped foot on the floor, alarms sounded and doors smoothly shut, sealing everyone into the nerve center of the city. There was a moment of hesitation, everyone in the large room wondering what the problem was, and then there was screaming, automatic weapons fire, bullets flying, and glass shattering.

"Replicators!" was the last coherent word she heard for the next thirty seconds. Hands shoved her back into her office and a body landed right on top of her. Glass exploded right over her head, followed by more yelling, and then finally shouts of, "All clear!" The weight shifted off of her with a solid thud.

"Col. Carter! Are you all right?" someone yelled from down below her office.

It took her a moment to actually find the answer. "I'm fine!" She pushed up, glass falling from her hair and arms, to a standing position and stumbled her way to the bridge. Looking down at the lower level, bodies lay on the floor and sparks sizzled from exposed crystalline conduits in walls. The security officers were cautiously moving towards the downed team.

She looked at the closed doors and understood the meaning for the klaxon. "Don't touch them! Something's set off the lock down mode!"

Still gathering her wits, Sam noticed Ronon for the first time with a Wraith stunner in his hand and standing a few feet away from the downed team. He looked up at her briefly but continued searching, intensely, the area in which she stood.

It hit her for whom he was looking so intently. There had been only one other person with her on the bridge and now she stood alone. The person in question sat with his back to the glass wall just inside of her office door. His legs shifted slightly and, next to them, red handprints smeared her floor from where he had pushed himself to a seated position.

"Colonel!" She ran the short distance to his location, knelt down in front of him, and softened her tone. "Colonel?"

He garbled soft, throaty exhalations out of his constantly moving mouth, never forming any coherent words. He swallowed and looked at her chin. At first, he appeared unaware of her presence, lost. Alarmingly, his skin shifted to a waxen and whitened hue right before her eyes. He was definitely already on his way to shock.

"Oh…**_oh_…**med team to the Gate Room…bring HAZMAT gear…I need another team to my office…"

"On our way," the reply was quick, not even letting her finish. They probably had been notified already.

She looked back down at her second in command-- _her _second in command. His eyes finally met hers and instead of a pleading look of "help me", the eyes asked if she was all right.

She had to smile at that as she answered, "I'm fine."

He responded with a pained, quick jerk of the head.

She checked him over and gently tried to move his hand from his side. "Colonel, let me see," she firmly yet gently cajoled him when he wouldn't budge. He finally relented. Blood squirted out of a hole and she quickly put his hand back. Next, she sat him forward. "There's an exit wound," she murmured to herself as she looked at his back.

Ronon's tell-tale heavy footsteps halted in her office and his angry growl broke over her, "Damn it." He stood in the doorway shaking and, with his eyes narrowed to slits, glaring at the both of them. His jaw muscles rippled and he swore again with more force, "_**Damn** _it!"

Sam closed her eyes and exhaled calmly. This was it. Her first real at home crisis as leader. Her first take charge and don't hold back moment. Her baptism in the fiery waters. Orders started to form on her lips because she knew she needed to take control.

"Ronon, stay with him. We need a first aid kit up here!" she shouted to whoever was listening.

Ignoring the glare aimed at her by the big man, Col. Sam Carter stood up and took off her jacket. "Use this to keep pressure on his wounds until help arrives." She jogged over to the consoles across from her office, knowing he would follow her orders.

The air was thick with smoke from the weapon's fire and the sparking of the objects the bullets had hit. "What exactly happened?"

Chuck righted his chair and began checking systems with his arm cradled against him. "The lieutenant's team came through, a bio-hazard was detected by Atlantis, and it locked us down--" He punched a few keys on his laptop. "--and out. But, med teams should be able to get through if they're in suits."

A sergeant jogged up the stairs and ran past her heading to her office. Another sergeant stopped in front of her. "Lt. Rosario's team opened fire on the entire room after the klaxon sounded. They were yelling something about Replicators. They've been stunned and weapons removed; they're otherwise unharmed. No one has touched them as per your orders, Ma'am."

Sam squinted at the sergeant while he reported, as though it would help with the sound. "Can someone shut that alarm off?"

"On it!"

She didn't know who answered her, but it really didn't matter. This group of people had been through this before. There was one thing that this expedition had down pat: crisis management. One of the techs was already clearing the com traffic and the Marines were securing any weapons.

"And alert off-world…"

As the klaxon shut off, Chuck started dialing off-world teams to stay put or go to the Alpha site. "I can't; we're locked out of Gate controls."

Of course…

Anyway, this might have been her first crisis as the person in charge of Atlantis, but this wasn't her first rodeo. "Do what you can. Anyone else injured?" she finally asked after she could hear herself think.

"One fatality, Sgt. Wilkes, ricochet to the chest. Two more GSWs, one in the arm and the other in the leg. They are being tended to…the Colonel?" Sgt. Jackson looked past her and motioned his head towards her office.

"GSW to the lower right torso," she said looking around at cracked console casings and shattered glass.

"Sgt. Reyes was an EMT in L.A…." Sgt. Jackson replied and nodded towards her office, again. "We call him Johnny Gage…"

She smiled at the man, appreciating his attempt at comfort. They were interrupted by the med team, suited up and entering the lower level. They filtered throughout the cavernous area. A few of the blue, plastic doctors started to triage the patients, and one took readings from the stunned team.

"Ma'am, you're bleeding…" Jackson finally said after a few minutes.

She felt her head and looked at the front and back of her hands. Sure enough, there were small cuts on both palms and on the backs. "Hunh."

"Have a seat, Ma'am, until someone can see you." The sergeant didn't leave her side after she sat in one of the consoles' chairs. The first part of her job was now done. It was time to take stock and look to the next phase of the problem.

Sitting in the middle of the ordered chaos and looking from her office, where John Sheppard lay, to Sgt. Jackson, standing next to her and protecting her, she realized people where willing to die for her. Not just for the expedition or Atlantis, but her, specifically. She'd had that on missions-- Jack and Teal'c defending their position as Daniel and she worked on some piece of equipment. They were team. It was what team did. But Sheppard's actions were all for her, with part of the reason being because of who she was, her position in the city.

Sam wondered how Jack had felt that first time he realized that people were willing to lay down their lives for him just because he was the man in charge. She knew he would put himself at risk, but to stand back and let others do it…it must have just bowled him over the first time. Now the cap was on her head. It fell to her, as leader, to do a harder job than dying. She had to live. She had to accept the sacrifice and move on to the next thing. She had to live for all of them.

With the sound of her breathing in her ears and the stinging of the cuts on her hands, she silently thanked them. She would do her utmost to make it count. External sounds returned and Ronon's bass mumblings told her that Sheppard was still with them. A doctor bent over him obscuring him from sight and did his or her thing. In the suits, she could hardly tell who was who.

"Col. Carter?" one of the suited physicians said setting down a medical case. "Let me see your hands."

She complied and held them out. "What's our status?"

"We are taking samples now. We'll set up decontamination procedures…this may take a little while."

Sam looked towards her office.

Seeing her movement, the doctor continued, "We'll have all of the injured stabilized. They can't be moved until decontamination, since we don't want any cross-contamination. We'll take good care of them."

He would have to wait for transport to the infirmary. Atlantis would not release any doors or systems until all the contamination was removed. It was going to be a hell of a long wait.

Chuck stepped up and stood next to Sgt. Jackson. "Col. Carter, Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka are on the comm. The air handlers should take care of any airborne particles." He fidgeted for a moment. "Dr. McKay wants to speak with Ronon."

"That's fine…and Chuck…get that looked at."

He looked at his wrist. "Yes, Ma'am."

She stared at the top of the blue hood in front of her. "Is there anyway to speed up the process?"

"No, Colonel. Plus…" The doctor tilted her head towards her office. "Ronon's hair is going to take awhile…"

Ronon flicked an irritated glance in their direction.

Damn, his hearing _was _good. In the mean time, all Sam could do was to let the doctor work on her hands and wait.

"Are you injured anywhere else?" the suit asked, studying Sam.

She looked down. "No."

So they waited. The time ticked by with unequivocal slowness. Her watch acted as though it was going backwards. In that period of slowness, she realized how much she missed being on a team, but, at the same time, it was all right that she wasn't. This was a new phase of her life and now she was in command like Gen. Hammond, Gen. Landry and Jack before her.

Atlantis, however, had its fundamental differences from their command. As much as the SGC was fly- by-the-seat-of-your-pants on many days, there was an order to it and immediate accountability. This island in the middle of the universe had order too but by a different set of rules. The first formidable enemy had a different need for an outcome. They didn't want to conquer. They wanted to feed. And the other enemy wanted to eradicate the first. Different galaxy, different rules.

This set up different dynamics on Gate teams. She noticed it on her first visit. As with many teams on Earth, some were set up by the leaders, others by luck of the draw, and still others out of necessity. And then there was Sheppard's team. They weren't bound by rules or set parameters. They were bound by need. They needed one another like no other team she had come across.

This dysfunctional quartet had corralled the irascible Dr. Rodney McKay, incorporated not one but two native residents, and redeemed (at least in the eyes of the military) a wayward Air Force officer. Ronon never left Sheppard's side the entire time they were in the office or when they moved him downstairs to the decontamination showers.

It kind of made her nostalgic for her own team.

The activity around all of the wounded never stopped, never relaxed, never ceased. Atlantis finally released the doors after everyone was cleaned and the air was deemed clear.

* * *

"Pollen," reported Dr. Keller six hours later. "That's what was on their clothes. It also contained a hallucinogen that absorbed into the skin. So once they stepped into Atlantis and alarms went off, they panicked. Lt. Rosario is really beating himself up. Luckily, no one else in the room was affected."

Sam nodded and replied, "I'll go chat with him next. So all of this was from laced pollen?"

"Yep, also, Col. Sheppard is the last one still in surgery. He'll be in there awhile, but so far all is going as well as can be expected. I suggest you go rest as well."

"Thanks, Doc, I'll do that." Of course she didn't. She made the rounds, thanking those who handled the situation (checking on Chuck and his sprained wrist), consoling those that had caused the situation, and mourning the one lost. Finally, she made it over to Sheppard's team waiting in an adjoining room.

"Dr. Keller said they'll be awhile, but things are going well," she reported.

"Yes, a nurse already told us," Rodney said from his seat, while slurping Jell-O, "But thanks."

The three of them looked at her like they were asking: what else do you want? It wasn't rude, but it did punctuate her role in this place. It really hadn't been that long ago that her team would have acted very similarly when waiting for word on a teammate. The vigils, the bad backs from uncomfortable chairs, the hanging on to hope until the doctor came out with the final news…Sheppard's team might be part of her command staff, but this was team time.

She left them because it was their turn to wait out the term that began with uncertainty and would end when Sheppard opened his eyes to his team. In the same vein, it was her turn to go make sure the effort and sacrifice were worth it. It was her turn to step out into the corridor and lead the way.


End file.
